You Choose
by ShaeraHaek
Summary: DGM AU: If Kanda had listened to his old man, he wouldn t have ended up as a crippled ghost in a bloody clinic! Haunted by two other spectres, to boot, who just loved to promenade themselves in their flashy robes while all he had was a bare ass and a fugly hospital gown.


He knew he fucked up. Real bad this time. How ironic, his old man always nagged him about that kind of stuff – _take out those earbuds, the music is too loud, turn down the volume it is going to damage your ears, you won´t even hear a car when it comes..._

Yeah, the car. He was right about not hearing the damn car, the music was too loud and he was too careless to look properly before stepping on the road.

And now here he is, in a stinky hospital, standing in the middle of a room in nothing but a hideous blue gown, staring at the chart that hung from the footboard.

Name: Kanda, Yuu; age: 21, blood type: AB, medical records: loads of bullshit made up words and he couldn´t even pronounce half of them.

He found himself cursing under his breath. Annoying. Everything about the room was annoying. The white walls, the ugly flowers on the bedside table, the constant sound of water dripping since some asshole didn´t even bother to close the faucet tightly enough, the beeping machines connected to the body.

Oh yeah, the body. _His _body, to be precise. Lying on the goddamned bed, behung with tubes and wires and shit like a very ugly Christmas tree. He had a tube in his mouth, in his nose, he had a catheter shoved up his ass and of course they had to put one in his dick. _In his dick! _But whatever. That was all fine – he could forgive them that. It was better than to watch his motionless fucking body dirty the bed. That would be far more embarrassing.

What _wasn´t _fine was the fact that they shaved his head. Well, part of it, actually. And he wouldn´t even call it _shaved, _either. More like butchered.

There was no way he could cover up such a big ass bald spot, not even with his hair length. He was going look like a damn hipster! An image flashed across his mind – black tunnels in his ears, dip-dyed hair and Starbucks coffee in his hand. He would start saying YOLO, take selfies and shit like that.

The idea was mortifying.

If he ever wakes up, he´s going to shove his foot down the throat of the fuck who dared to mutilate his head. If he won´t wake up, the guy will be haunted for the rest of his miserable life.

He scowled at his body but after a while he gave up trying to make it move with his eyes and let out a long, resigned sigh. There was nothing he could do except maybe explore the building a bit. The room was small and boring anyway and the dripping water was irritating.

Kanda poked his head through the door, looking left and right first and then stepped into the empty dark hallway. Would they see him? he wondered. Would the nurses freak out if they saw him wandering the halls like a wraith? He shrugged. He didn´t really care. Could be a nice payback for all the tubes and missing hair. Boo, motherfuckers, right?

There was a sound of laughter coming from the room at the very end of the corridor. The door was wide open, letting the soft flickering lights from the room dance across the floor and the opposite wall.

He looked around again, unsure of what to do. Should he be walking around like this? It was not as if his body would run away.

He carefully stepped forward, still feeling the urge to look behind. The back of his neck tingled as if someone was watching him. Another lingering ghost like him maybe? He shook the idea away and picked up his pace. Did they put him into an abandoned hospital or something? Everything was empty and the eerie silence that fell everywhere around him when the laughter in the last room died down was a little bit unnerving.

He passed four doors and could hear the muttering now, a silent discussion followed by another outburst. There was the static noise, too, and a different sound – that horrible artificial laughing they put into every cheap comedy show since the seventies or so.

He could even tell the difference between the voices. One was old and hoarse, kind of strained. It made Kanda think of an old war veteran with a wrinkled face and shaky hands who retold the story of his time too many times. The second voice was different – and not like pitch-different. Odd, but not in a bad way. It belonged to a younger man, boy perhaps, Kanda couldn´t tell. It was soft and smooth and how ever hard he tried, he couldn´t find the correct word to describe it.

"I love when he does that!" the old man said fondly between the chuckles. He was a little out of breath. "How can he move his ears like that!"

"It is funny, isn´t it." the younger one said and Kanda didn´t need to see the man to know he was smiling.

He stopped just before he could reach the door and rested his palm on the wall. He looked behind again briefly, wondering just when did the presence in the shadows disappear. He rubbed his neck nervously and peeked into the room.

The old man sat on the edge of the bed, smiling as he wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes. He looked very much like Kanda has imagined him, too. A younger and shorter man sat on his left and Kanda had to rub his eyes to convince himself that the whiteness that he radiated was really not just a trick of light. His hair was white – literally white, not like the greyish strands on the old geezer´s head - and the robe he wore looked as if it was shining with all that pallor. His eyes shone, too, and were filled with fondness and patience.

Someone liked to be flashy, Kanda´s mentally commented.

The youth´s hand was soothingly rubbing circles in the geezer´s hunched back. His shoulder were sagged as if he carried a great weight on them and his eyes were clouded with pain and tiredness.

"How does he do that? Can you do that?"

The young man hummed thoughtfully and dangled his bare feet for a moment. As if that wasn´t childish enough he put a finger to his mouth and Kanda would have rolled his eyes if he wasn´t that surprised by his appearance.

"No, I don´t think so. Do they move?" He stared at the old man with a focused face as he held his hair up.

The elder´s voice sounded a little bit disappointed. "They don´t." The youth pouted in exaggeration and Kanda did roll his eyes this time. "Maybe your ears are not big enough to move. And the poor cat! He always wants to eat the cat!"

"They won´t let him, though." The young man piped in silently.

"No, they don´t."

Kanda didn´t even know how but he moved from the shadows into the room. The old man turned his head to stare at him and scratched his stubbly chin.

"Is it him?" he asked and Kanda awkwardly shuffled on the spot, feeling unsure now that the attention of the two males shifted to him. "Is it finally time?"

The youth shook his white head. "Not him. Not yet. You still have some time left."

"I thought so." The old man chuckled dryly. "I was wondering whether he changed his clothes. Surely he would not wear something as hideous as these hospital robes. His hair was shorter, too, if I remember correctly."

The other man chuckled, glancing at him mischievously. "Your memory still serves you well."

"I haven´t seen you around here before, laddie. Have you been here long?"

The words froze in Kanda´s throat when the silver eyes of the younger man met his.

"Has the cat got your tongue, laddie?" the old man repeated more loudly this time and with slight impatience. "Are you deaf?"

"Watch your mouth, old fart!" Kanda snapped back finally, shaking off the daze.

"Oh, not deaf then. And he even has a tongue, a sharp one even. Good, good. It´s a bit sad to see a young one here, isn´t it." The youth replied with a hum of agreement. "Call him for me would you?" The elder pleaded suddenly. "I´ve been here too long now. It is time I go. I am glad I could see you for the last time but I think I should go to my brother. He has been waiting too long."

The other man stayed silent and a shadow of sadness momentarily dimmed the light of his eyes. He put his hand down from the man´s back slowly and it seemed as if the weight on his shoulders suddenly disappeared. The old man straightened up and sprung from the bed, suddenly appearing younger and happier.

"I wanted to tell you that you´ve been kind to me and thank you for everything you gave me. I cherished every moment. I have no regrets now." The elder said solemnly which made the younger man smile at him shyly.

"It has been a pleasure," he replied, offering him a handshake which the other almost accepted.

"Allen, you little rascal, you!" The man wiggled his finger at him, scolding him like a little naughty child. "Trying to trick me again, eh? Not this time, though. Not this time."

The younger one didn´t look apologetic. "Worth it."

The old man then bowed to him and carefully reached for his hands, bringing them to his mouth and planting a kiss on each.

Kanda frowned at them in confusion and almost screamed when a deep but melodic voice spoke from behind him. He sidestepped, almost tripping over himself.

"I see you´ve said your good-byes."

The newcomer was a complete opposite of the white haired youth – he was older and towering over Kanda, with dark messy hair, tanned face and amber eyes. He wore a black robe and a cloak that seemed to be the darkness itself.

"Indeed!" the old man exclaimed happily as he moved to the black clad man. "He will be a better company than an old fart like me," he said, looking at Kanda with something akin to approval. "Hopefully he won´t be bored anymore."

"Ready?" the black clad man interrupted him, also offering a handshake which the old man accepted without a second thought. "Neah, my old friend," he said fondly as the tall man threw his cloak around his old shoulders and led him away.

Kanda stared after them as they walked down the corridor until he heard a soft cough from behind him. The white clad brat stood there with a sickeningly pleasant smile and an outstretched hand.

"You´re here soon, Kanda," he said quietly.

What the hell? "How do you know my name?" he asked with a scowl. His eyes flickered from the brat´s face to his hand. "If you think I´m going to shake it, you´re wrong."

There was a reason why the old fart hasn´t done that and Kanda was not particularly keen on finding out why.

"I know everyone´s name. And it´s a pity," he said as he let the hand fall to his side. When he spoke next, his voice was full of confidence. "Not everyone gets the chance to decide whether to shake it or not."

"Whatever, bean sprout," Kanda scoffed and turned on his heel, marching to his room again. He couldn´t bare to stay in his presence alone. It was as if the heaviness that weighted down the old geezer´s shoulders moved onto him.

He didn´t care that he was running like a coward – he would reprimand himself later, anyway – but he felt like he needed to leg it that very instance. He kind of regretted it when he busted into his room again and saw his tube-covered unmoving body on the bed, but everything was better than being in that white ghost´s vicinity. Kanda sat down in the corner next to the bed and hugged his knees.

What a way to go, he thought. Hiding like a snivelling nine-year-old. If Lavi saw him he would laugh for the rest of his soulless ginger life.

He stayed like that for what felt like eternity, pondering about where could the black clad ghost have led the old man.

The next day, he was woken by an infantile cry.

He wanted to ignore it. So. Damn. Much. But the wailing continued for what felt like eternity and Kanda was pretty sure it was getting stronger by every passing second. When it got to the point where it _crying _turned to _screeching – _and even he had to admit to himself that it was the most heart-wrenching sound he´s ever heard in his life – he bolted from his little corner and yanked the door open so violently that he almost tore it from the hinges.

"Would someone shut the kid up!?" He yelled angrily and listened to the answer.

"I´m trying!" Came a pathetic uneasy answer.

Oh joy. It was that white haired bratty spectre from before - Allen. Seems like kiddos just love him. He contemplated whether he should help him but when he remembered how his presence turned his limbs to lead his will rather faltered. He was not a damn babysitter. But then again, it seemed like the brat wasn´t one either, going by the horrifying sounds the baby was making.

Kanda bit the inside of his cheek. He sure as hell didn´t like children and didn´t really consider himself a particularly caring person, but the wails that echoed throughout the hospital were hurting more than just his ears.

Ah, fuck it. He could not be worse than the brat in flashy robes. He should ask him where he got those, by the way – walking around with a practically bare ass was not his thing.

"What the fuck are you doing, idiot?" Kanda asked, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at the white clad man.

"What do you think?"

He was really a pathetic sight. He held the small keening bundle in his arms, trying to sooth it by cooing, rocking and whispering nonsense. His face was twisted with worry and distress and he also seemed a little desperate.

Kanda sighed and pushed his long hair from his eyes before walking in. "Give him a pacifier. Or feed him." He offered in exasperation. Really, how hard could it be to shut up such a little fussy knot? Surely not as hard as the brat was making it look like.

He stepped closer to look properly and saw a little unhappy red face with big tightly shut eyes and toothless mouth. He stroked the babe´s cheek with his finger before he could stop himself and he was glad to do it, because the wailing suddenly faltered.

"Looks like it´s you who´s making him cry." Kanda commented sarcastically, still stroking the kid´s puffed cheek.

Allen bit his lip and looked almost as unhappy as the little bugger in his arms.

"Give it here." Kanda tched and took the now more-or-less quiet frowny bundle - it made him feel like some kind of baby-tamer.

He should put it on his résumé.

And for that single split of second everything was perfect, until he realized that he indeed had no idea how to _hold_ a baby. He was pretty sure he´d never touched a baby in his life, just as he was sure that he was probably never going to. It seemed that the little snotty knot realized that too and began to voice his discomfort by sobbing and wiggling.

"You need to hold him like this, let me show you." The white spectre interrupted nervously but the moment he touched the baby, it screeched again, which made him retract his hand as if it was on fire. "Oh no! No!" He cooed, "please stop crying!"

"What did you do to the kid?" Kanda wondered as he tried to cradle it on his arms while the other guiltily stared at the tips of his bare feet. He watched as Allen walked over to the only furniture in the room that was the little white crib and rested his hand on the wood.

When his silver eyes fell on Kanda again, a shiver ran down his spine. He remembered his old man saying something about living another day when you feel it. Something about the death jumping over your grave...

He had the urge to bolt again but resisted this time and rather turned around, heading towards the window. The room was even worse than his – with white bare walls and floors, one old window with painted white flowers and the lonely little baby cradle.

"Let me hold him one more time."

Kanda was pretty sure this white haired fucking fairy godmother had to be related to the black clad dude with Batman cape because they both seemed to enjoy the living lights out of him. Or dying lights in this case since he couldn´t exactly call this out-of-body experience or whatever he was experiencing right now _being alive. _

He was like Casper the friendly ghost – taking care of wailing kiddos and shit.

But he handed the child over, bracing himself for the noise. The babe´s cries were milder this time, more tired and resigned.

"It is time you let him go." Another voice said and Kanda recognized it belonged to the black clad man – Neah, as the old man called him.

"I wanted him to stay some more." Allen replied quietly.

"You see he doesn´t want you. He is tired and yearning for his mother. Let them reunite again."

The white clad man sighed sadly but complained, planting a gentle kiss on the baby´s forehead before handing it to Neah who wrapped it in his black cloak.

The babe immediately lightened up, cooed and babbled, struggling to grasp the man´s chin with his tiny fat hands.

He turned on his heel then and slowly walked away, leaving a trail of darkness in his wake. When Kanda turned around to ask what just happened, Allen was gone as well.

That was the second time Kanda met the two mysterious ghosts and it made him wonder. About many things. Like where was the black clad man taking those ghosts or spirits or whatever they all were? Why did they seem to dislike the white one? The old man refused his handshake and the baby almost cried his eyes out in when Allen held him. Then there was the strange heavy feeling whenever he was left alone with the white ghost – the heaviness that weighted down the old geezer´s shoulders and made Kanda feel uneasy and weak. The babe must have felt it, too...

He was in his room again, staring at his body. He was slowly getting used to it – the beeping, the dripping water, the flowers on the table – who left them there anyway? Was it his old man? Yeah, it must have been him. He´s sentimental like that.

Kanda stared at his own deathly pale face, reaching to touch it with his hand. It went straight through.

He remembered some stories and legends about ghosts who couldn´t or refused to move on. Maybe he was the same. Except he had nothing to hold him there.

The dripping of the water seemed to grow louder all of a sudden.

He left the room to wander around the hospital. Every room he passed was empty, there were no sounds either, no painted windows, no cribs. He went through two floors and still found nothing. Everything was dead silent.

But then he heard it! On the floor above him – a muffled yell. He hurried up the stairs, silently cursing under his nose. He was a ghost for fuck´s sake and he still has to run like goddamn Forrest Gump. Maybe he´s a damaged ghost – but then he remembered that Patrick Swayze couldn´t fly either.

He was almost at the top of the stairs and the only thing that separated him from whoever was up there was a double winged white door. _A motherfucking locked double winged door _that felt pretty hard against his face when he slammed it right against it _because it didn´t fucking budge! _

"I´m a GHOST!" A pretty crippled ghost, though. "Too spooky for you!" He yelled as he kicked it open. "Bitch."

He hurried in and followed the weird grunts and yells.

His knees buckled and breath hitched when he came to a stop in front of the dark room out of which the noises were coming from.

"Oi," he gasped, rooted to the ground. "Let him go..." How pathetic his own voice sounded in his ears.

There was a man, not too old, but not young either, few years after his prime age. His eye were wide and black with madness, his breath laboured, making little puffs of white clouds with every exhale and there was sweat on his brow, doubtlessly from the effort to wring the slender neck of the spectre clad in light that lay under him.

Allen´s face was blank, void of emotions or pain and the light of his eyes was dulled into dim steel. He lay on the floor with his arms wide spread, and made no attempt to push the mad ghost off.

"You will stay here!" The ghost growled, the muscles on his arms bulging as he squeezed harder. "You will not let him take me! You are mine! It is not my time yet, not the right time! You can´t let me go yet!" He yelled and yelled, shaking the other man as he spasmed.

Allen blinked owlishly and turned his head to the side and only when his eyes stopped on him, Kanda felt the weight on his shoulders again which snapped out of the shock and threw the man off the small white sprout..

He stood between them and felt fear gnaw at his knees when the mad eyes fell on him.

"He´s mine! You won´t take him from me! He´s mine! _I still belong to him!_" The man yelled and charged. Kanda braced himself for the hit but it never came.

"No, Adam," a deep angered voice boomed and Kanda opened his eyes only to see Neah grasping the madman´s wrist. The man screamed and tried to pry his hand off but only in vain.

"_You _belong to _me!" _The black ghost´s voice echoed and he threw his black cloak over the man and then they were gone and the darkness with them.

"What," Kanda paused, taking a deep steadying breath, "the fuck just happened?" His damn knees were still shaking. "What the fuck were you doing stupid sprout?!" His whole body was shaking, actually. Whether from fright or from anger, he didn´t know but he sure as hell knew that he won´t be trying any Ouija mumbo jumbo with Lavi in the near future. Fuck, that madman ghost!

"What were you thinking? Just lying there and staring like a numbskull while he was trying to rip your stupid white head off! Say something damnit!" His voice cracked. "Stop smiling or I will slap that smile off your face."

"You are brave," Allen said kindly but the tone made Kanda imagine a parent praising his child for not eating all the cookies at once.

"Don´t give me that shit! What was that supposed to mean? Who are you anyway? You and that weird black Casper who just hauled ass with the lunatic." He stared at his neck and found no wounds or bruises there. He subconsciously reached for his own neck.

"People give me many names..."

He heard but the man was gone when he blinked and Kanda was in his room again, staring at the now withered flowers on the nightstand.

Kanda spent the next few days sitting on the hallway in front of his room, nervously fiddling with his hair. Neither of the ghosts came to visit him but he caught a glimpse of Allen leading an old woman with a cane into a room. Their eyes met and the sprout gave him a little wave.

The old lady noticed him too and he saw her whisper something in the spectre´s ear. Allen whispered something back which made the lady nod and wave as well. Kanda awkwardly returned the gesture with a frown on his face.

The next morning, he was woken up by crying again. But not that of an infant as before, nor one of a madman. It was the crying of a broken man. It sounded mildly familiar but he just couldn´t put his finger on why. It was muffled and blurry – if that could be used as a word to describe a noise.

And something was... missing.

When he opened his eyes he sprung to his feet, looking around wildly. His room was filled with blurred shadowy figures running around but whatever they were saying was muffled and inaudible. One shadow sat by his bed, with hunched back and hands joined in front of his mouth in a prayer. He was the one crying.

Then he noticed Neah standing by the foot of the bed.

"It is time," he said.

Oh, right. The sound of dripping water was missing. The beeping of the machines, too.

Kanda stood up and stared at the man´s outstretched hand. Then it clicked. He momentarily wondered how idiotic he had to look in his eyes. Spectres... Yeah, sure. Not fucking _spectres_.

"You refused his hand. Will you shake mine?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"Because I get to chose and you´re here too soon."

Neah laughed and disappeared and Allen took his place.

He offered him his hand again, a sweet smile playing on his lips. His eyes shone with happiness and mischief as he patiently waited for Kanda to accept it.

"I will shake it, but only if you answer the question I asked you before."

"You know who I am. You already heard my name. Mine and Neah´s."

"Those... were not really your names."

Allen´s smile widened and he dropped the hand to his side.

"Those were the names a sickly boy who lived in a huge house surrounded by golden fields of wheat with his mother and his brother once gave us. I came to visit him with my brother because he lingered in his dreams for too long. We asked him to choose to go with one of us but he begged us to wait, at least until he gives us proper names.

We waited but my brother grew restless, took his dice and so we played. Through the whole night and the next morning and when the sun climbed the highest point of the sky, just before I threw my dice again, the boy came back to us saying he picked our names and was ready to leave.

He called me Allen and named my brother Neah, but people give us many names. They call me Cruel. Unfair. Sometimes they call me Spring, other times Joy. Some use the name of the ones who are closes to their heart – lovers, mothers, fathers.

Have you picked a name for me yet?" He offered him his hand again.

Kanda grinned and reached to ruffle the white hair, making the smaller man voice a little protest.

"Did you laugh at me? I seem to be the only one who didn´t recognize you."

Allen chuckled. "A little. Did you make up your mind then?"

"Yes, you little idiot sprout." Kanda said, rubbing his shoulder. The weight was back but he found himself not minding it this time. He knew what it meant and he accepted it. Just as he finally accepted his hand.

After all, not many get to choose whether to shake the hand of Life or Death.

When he opened his eyes he saw his old man on his side, snivelling and crying like the sappy sod he always was. The beeping of the machines was back. The dripping water too.

"Hey," Kanda croaked weakly, wincing at how sore his throat felt. His body felt like lead and even blinking felt like climbing the Everest.

His father gave him the most wide-eyed look he ever saw him make and then laughed through his tears. "My boy!" He sobbed. "My dear, dear boy!"

"Stop crying." Kanda scolded half-heartedly. He was already out of breath. "And show me the fuck who shaved my head."

* * *

><p><strong>Picture of hipster!Kanda on my tumblr XD Thank you for reading!<strong>


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